And There Is Him
by bleujet13
Summary: What happens after Tony barged into the Interrogation room? based from the promo of 10x23 Double Blind. One-shot. A collaboration with xXSilent-CrescendoXx.


**A/N:** This is based on the promo for NCIS 10x23 "Double Blind" may contain spoilers. You have been warned.

This is an idea that just won't quit. And when I was almost hopelessly in despair of abandoning this, a sweet angel lent me a hand.

Thank you oh so very much Kaylee, ( xXSilent-CrescendoXx) for being much, much more than a beta. I owe you big time! *hugs*

and I am so glad there is you.. ;)

**DISCLAIMER:** Heart breakingly disclaimed.

* * *

"Interview's over!" Tony spat angrily as he strode forcefully into the dimly lit interrogation room.

He'd stood behind the double-sided mirrors, fists clenched; as he'd listened to this overconfident jackass interrogate Ziva.

He'd been willing to let the guy get away with asking the questions they all needed to know the answers to - 'How long had you been tracking Bodnar before making a move?' - 'Why did you not discontinue pursuing the suspect when Homeland Security ordered you to?' - and he'd stopped himself from interfering when the guy started asking her about the personal side of their trip to Berlin.

He'd been both amused by the question, and proud of Ziva when she scoffed and shot Investigator Parsons a look that clearly said 'are you freaking kidding me?'' in response to the, quite frankly ludicrous, implication that the two of them had slept together.

Every man has his breaking point, though, and Tony's came when Parsons asked her, in a particularly condescending tone, "Did it make you better? To push him off that boat?"

He saw Ziva's mouth open and close. Someone who didn't know her as well as he did would not have picked up on it, but fury welled in Tony's gut as he saw her bottom lip tremble.

Her reply of "Regardless of how I feel, his death was justified," was both unsure and timid, but Tony didn't hear it, as he was already halfway to the interrogation room.

"Excuse me?" Parsons said indignantly, reeling from the sudden interruption. He folded his arms like a petulant child. "This is a confidential interview between myself and Miss David."

"Agent David" Tony growled, shooting the man a contemptuous look. His expression softened as he turned to Ziva.

"Hey, you can get out of this room if you want. You know, take a break. There's nothing to do here that can't be done later."

Ziva looked warily at him; they hadn't yet talked seriously about her ditching the team to go after Bodnar alone, and it was a conversation she was dreading almost as much as the interrogation she was currently on the wrong end of.

"Go," Tony encouraged, "I'll catch up to you in a minute, okay?"

The two men watched Ziva leave, one taking note of her confident stride, the other's attention on her slight limp and the, not as confident as usual, sway of her hips.

The door closed and they turned to face each other. Testosterone was bouncing off the walls, the tension thick. Parsons glares at Tony, who met his eyes with an unwavering determination.

"What gives you the right to just walk in on an interview like that?"

"What gives you the right to question my partner's motives?" Tony returned, not missing a beat.

"Her methods have been unconventional, admittedly, but Bodnar is dead. He can no longer harm anyone. Can you say the same would be the case if Agent David had let it go? Would Homeland Security have been able to deliver the same results? Hundreds of lives, potentially, have been saved-"

"And the loss of two avenged." Parsons cut in, earning himself another venomous look from one very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo.

"I can admit that Homeland's eye on Bodnar was a little more lax than Agent David's, and that is exactly what's the problem here. Agent David was not acting on official orders. Bodnar had to be stopped, but Agent David's utilization of vigilante justice is neither appropriate nor acceptable. Not only has she gone behind the backs of many agencies, but, if I'm not mistaken, she also went behind your back. How can you trust an Agent who does not trust you?"

"I'm going to say this once, and once only." Tony seethed, speaking slowly and with a barely concealed anger.

"Agent David and I trust each other implicitly, explicitly, and any other kind of 'itly' you care to throw at me. If there's something she doesn't tell me I know undoubtedly that there's a damn good reason for it. I stand behind her. I stand behind her decisions."

"Yes. You'd also stand in front of her, wouldn't you?" Parsons asked, and Tony cocked an eyebrow questioningly. "Summer of 2009." He clarified, and Tony laughed harshly.

"You know what? Yeah, I'd stand in front of her. I would take a bullet for her. I'd follow her into a barren desert time and time again if it meant keeping her alive and safe. But that's not what you're asking. You're asking if I plan to cover up for her, if I plan on taking the rap for this for her."

Tony paused for breath, taking a step closer to Parsons, who was listening intently.

Tony sighed, his tone becoming less harsh tainted with a hint of regret.

"I would. I would give my credibility, I'd give my badge, and I'd give my life for her. But she won't let me. She's not the cold-hearted killer you think she is, and if you stopped pissing around and do your job properly instead of goading her and asking personal questions in a professional interrogation, then maybe you'd realize that."

"Agent DiNozzo," Parsons said, watching Tony turn around and open the door. He was silenced by the calmly professional tone of the retreating man.

"If you have any more questions you'd like to ask my partner, you can do so in the presence of our lawyer. Until then, we are done." Tony forced the door shut, wishing it were Parsons face he was slamming instead.

He didn't even bother looking around in the nooks and crannies of the orange hallways, knowing she would not cower there – or anywhere, for that matter.

He did not go to the bullpen, to Abby's lab, Autopsy, MTAC.

He didn't go to the evidence garage, the elevator; he didn't even think to go to the coffee place on the corner where they did the particularly nice croissants with warm butter and strawberry jam.

No, Tony walked purposefully; ignoring everyone and everything around him, to the place he knew she'd be.

He found her, as he knew he would, leaning against the sink with her palms flat against the granite surface, head bowed down.

The tension in her shoulders was palpable, and as much as he longed to ease her distress away, he was still not entirely sure she'd let him. The level of emotional intimacy they'd shared in Berlin had gone as quickly as it came, torn away from them by the impact of bumper against bumper, the sound of screams and horns. His hand itched, and he looked down to gaze at the imprints her nails had left on the back of his hand.

"You did not have to do that, you know." Ziva said softly, snapping him out of his reverie.

She had not turned around, and nor had her head lifted so that she could even see him in the mirror. It was another one of those things that happened between them, something they could not define. It was as though there was an unbreakable chain between them that held them together, heart to heart. One tug and they'd be guided to the other safely, soundly. It was the same force that had led him to her in Somalia, the same one she'd come to rely on quite heavily these past few years; knowing he was somewhere out there waiting for had always been a balm of sorts for her tortured soul.

"Honestly, Tony. I could have handled it."

It would have been a lot more convincing had her voice not been saturated with grief and hurt.

He stepped forward and stood stoically behind her, being careful to respect her personal space whilst at the same time being no more than an arm's reach away should she deign to seek his comfort.

Two minutes passed like that, and whilst the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable, exactly, it also wasn't pleasant. She knew he was still hurt by and angry with her and the fact that he wasn't confronting her both relieved and bothered her.

It seemed as though she'd been used by everybody bar Tony and then cast aside, left to languish alone in the aftermath.

Her own hypocrisy annoyed her, but she bit it down. It angered her how she feels that Vance had used her to avenge the death of his wife, feeding her hints, giving her permission to go to Berlin, and then – just before she went in for the kill – publicly announcing that she should give up, knowing full well that she was too far gone to even consider such a thing.

She could have dealt with his casting her aside had he discouraged her relentless hunt for Bodnar from the beginning, but he had not. And now she's paying the heavy price for it.

There was a small part of her that wished she could run. To escape to some sunny place where she could lay on the beach all day, reveling in the sand tickling her toes. This part of her wanted to never look back, to blissfully live in solitude, because if she were alone, then nothing could hurt her, and she – in turn –could hurt no one.

She was acutely aware that her actions these past few days had had a negative impact on Tony. She knew she'd worried him, she knew she'd hurt him by going alone when he's taken pains to assure her that actually, she was not alone, that she was loved.

She wondered how he'd managed to stay so patient with her; she'd have long since reached her limit by now. She stifled a sob, realizing just how badly she'd messed up.

"Oh Ziva.." Tony said, his voice soaked in sympathy and she raised her head up to stare at his reflection, trying to feel him out.

"I am... sorry," she whispered, not even bothering to disguise the tears that were now flowing freely down her face.

Tony became unsettled; she was not normally one to cry, even under the most extreme duress. He stepped to the side of her, thought about it, and then placed his hand above her own. As she had done in the car, she flipped over her palm and intertwined their fingers, clutching at him as though he was the lifeline she'd been searching for, and, if she were to be honest with herself, he was.

"I'm not going to say that you haven't made a real mess for yourself here, David," He said, eliciting a weak smile from her.

"But I will," he continued, pulling her gently to him and tilting her chin up so their eyes met, "stand by you no matter what happens now. You, me – we're in this together."

Ziva frowned, tears pooling now in her sore eyes. It was everything she'd wanted him to say, and exactly what she needed to hear after the challenge that had been these past few months, but now that they were here, and this was actually happening, it had a particularly bittersweet flavor.

She felt a nagging sensation in her heart; she needed to try and clear the air.

"I should not have lied to you, gone off without you. It was stupid, irresponsi-"

"Yeah, it was. But I guess I can forgive you." He joked, cocking his head to one side. He paused for a minute, relaxing himself; now was not the time to lapse back into his defense mechanisms - the humor had to go.

He sighed, and Ziva tensed, noticing the shift in his demeanor. "We're not okay, Ziva. You and I, something has changed. At some point, when all this legal crap is over and done with, I'm going to drag your ass to dinner and we are going to have this out properly, we're going to find out exactly where we stand with each other. There are going to be no more lies between us, understood? No more secrecy. Just you and I, talking... about things that matter."

Ziva nodded slowly, relieved that although he was as uncomfortable with their current standings with the other as she herself was, he was more than willing to work at it, something she could definitely meet him halfway with.

Between Bodnar and Berlin they'd been back to how they used to be before the Dearing fiasco, steady flirting, keeping each other at an arm's distance. Berlin had thoroughly confused the both of them, however, and the crash had certainly not helped matters.

"I understand." she replied, one half of her mouth lifting in a subtle grin, "And I look forward to that dinner."

A knock on the bathroom door pulled them away from their intensely personal, intimate bubble.

Tony dropped Ziva's hand, and she snatched it away, clasping it to her chest with the other.

"Agent DiNozzo," sounded the impatient voice of one Leon Vance from the other side of the door.

"You have been told multiple times that this is the Ladies' restroom. You and Agent David need to come out now."

"We'll be out when we're ready to leave," Tony sassed, feeling a little smug when he heard Vance retreat, even if he knew they had only been granted a temporary reprieve. Ziva rolled her eyes.

"You are only making it worse for yourself, Tony. You do realize how much trouble you are likely already in because you interrupted an official federal interrogation, yes?"

"Yeah, and I'd do it again."

"Tony, you need to back off from this investigation." Ziva said, a hushed urgency evident in her panicked tone.

"You're the cleanest one of us. There's a reason I didn't tell you. Gibbs gave me permission to do this, McGee hacked into several government agencies without any permission from anybody, the Director not only supported this, but funded it-"

"And now he's throwing you to the wolves! Ziva, I'm not innocent. I went with you to Berlin.

"You chose not to involve me to protect me, I get that. I'd have probably tried to keep you at a safe distance too had our positions been reversed. I involved myself. I will stand by your side, no matter how ugly this gets, you just have to trust me."

"I do trust you." Ziva said, falling into his open arms, and sighing with relief. You are the only one I do trust, she continued in her mind, feeling infinitely better for having confided in her, at least. She wasn't openly sobbing, but a few tears escaped her composure, dampening Tony's dress shirt.

They stayed like that for around five minutes, seeking comfort in the other for themselves, reveling in the newfound knowledge, that they could be perfectly content just to hold the other with no awkwardness.

"I shouldn't have let you go into that interrogation room alone. I was on the other side of the glass the entire time, you know."

"It is not like you had a choice. And I knew, as crazy as it sounds I could sort of... feel you."

"For the record, I was really impressed with the way you handled that 'Did you sleep with him?' question. The look you gave him was priceless."

"It was a stupid question. Besides, we did not sleep together, not in that way, at least."

"We're a mess, aren't we?" Tony commented, and smiled wanly as Ziva hummed her agreement.

Tony's phone began to ring.

The moment effectively ruined, Ziva untangled herself from his embrace and nodded at him to take the call.

"DiNozzo here. Yeah, Gibbs – I.. What? Yes she's with me. No. What do you mean, what do I mean? I said 'No'. I mean it, that jack hole is not going nowhere near her again until either our lawyers are present or I can sit in there with her. I am not letting that sonovabitch attack my partner again!" Tony began to pace around the room, growing more and more irate.

"Okay, yes... fine," he said after several minutes spent clearly getting a Gibbs' lecture. "We'll be there in five."

"We have been summoned, I take it?" Ziva remarked, folding her arms and drawing herself in once again.

Tony hated that, the mask she put on. Still, he knew it was necessary for her to wear it in order to cope with the situation, and he felt safe in the knowledge that she felt comfortable enough around him to abandon all pretense, and that, eventually, they were going to be okay again.

He walked over to her, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. Her face was impassive, a hardened shell of the emotional Ziva he'd known not three minutes ago, but her eyes held a new light in them, and he realized that she was doing a little better.

He smiled regretfully, about to suggest they make a move, but stopped himself as he saw her lips move. "I ruined your shirt."

Tony laughed; leave it to Ziva to point out the obvious. "I don't mind, honestly. But if you feel that badly about it you can take me shopping and buy me a new one."

He barely winced as she landed a soft half-hearted punch on his shoulder. They laughed, thanking the powers that be that it was so easy between them for even just this little while. Ziva looked into Tony's eyes, took note of his jovial expression, and tried to reconcile it with the worry and suppressed feeling she saw in the depths of his green pupils.

"Tony, I..."

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

"McImpatient! What does a guy have to do to get five minutes alone here?!" Tony barked into his phone, annoyed that they'd been interrupted yet again.

Ziva gestured for him to go, nodding to reassure him that she'd be along soon. Without thinking, he slung an arm around her shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Love you," he said absently, making his way out of the bathroom.

She smiled thoughtfully; it hadn't been a big, over-the-top declaration of his feelings, but there was something decidedly sweet in the way he'd left, almost as if he didn't even realize that he'd said it. She turned to face her reflection in the mirror and grimaced; it was a good thing there was spare mascara in her jacket pocket.

Ziva walked across the room to the paper towel dispenser and grabbed a handful of tissues; these things were rough on the face, as she'd known for a very long time, but in the absence of facial cleansing wipes, they'd do. She ran warm water over them in the sink, and proceeded to wipe away her smudged make-up.

Ziva laughed exasperatedly at her reflection, her face was red and blotchy, no doubt due to her earlier crying. At least she was starting to be able to breathe through her nose again. She drained the sink and dried her hands before reaching into her pocket for her phone.

"Give me 2 minutes" she texted, letting Tony know she was nearly done.

"Take as long as you need" was his reply, "I'll hold them off for you'.

There was a certain freedom, Ziva found, in handing the reins over to Tony, letting him look out for her. His words echoed in her ears, sending tingles down her spine, 'love you', he'd said.

And he really did, something she knew without a doubt. No other person in her life had ever had her back as he had, and she knew that her actions these past few months had driven a wedge between them.

Still, though, if he loves her...

Of course, she had a hard time reconciling her own emotions. He confused her at the best of times, going from completely serious in one second to making inappropriate jokes and goofing around the next. He blew hot and cold, as she herself did. She could be having the worst day imaginable, and sometimes all it took was one look or a wry smile from her partner to fill her with a new hope.

If she were to be completely honest with herself, she'd say she loved him. A simple truth, achieved through a complex navigation of charged emotions, but simple nonetheless.

Ziva reapplied her mascara, feeling a little more at ease with herself. She'd done some truly despicable things during her time on this planet, but who hadn't?

Even the worst of people had somebody to be with them, to stand aside them. She knew that these next few weeks would be painful, that loyalties would be tested, bonds broken, bridges burned. But, if she were as correct as she presumed herself to be, they would all be okay in the end. And if not, they'd deal with it later.

At the very least, she was glad there was him.

FIN ^.^


End file.
